


Good Thing You’re Real Pretty

by FlashMountain



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: A LOT of Angst, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Developing Relationship, Harringrove, Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Billy Hargrove, Insecure Steve Harrington, M/M, Misscomunication, a hopeful epilogue, a little bit of softness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:28:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22757056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlashMountain/pseuds/FlashMountain
Summary: Look, Steve isn’t the smartest, never claimed to be, but he knows a couple a’ things, like the fact that he’s kinda dumb and a coward and that Billy realizing all that, and dropping him, would break his heart right down the fucking middle.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 20
Kudos: 237





	1. I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This started out as a dabble on my tumblr, basically the first chapter, but a surprising amount of people demanded I fix the hearts I broke so here I am. I decided to put it on here, well, ‘cause I can.
> 
> Check out my tumblr @awickedplacethisis for more chaos.

Steve knows that he’s not smart, okay? He got it already that first time, when his dad called him a retard, when he brought home pamphlets about _reading_ _disabilities_ and _dyslexia_ he got from his fifth grade teacher. 

He _knows_ that he’s not some kinda genius like Dustin and the kids with their _av club_ and _plans_ and _sience shit_.

He _knows_ that he’s not smart like Nance, can’t keep his thoughts and _homework_ organized like she does, can’t focus on those words that don’t make _sense_ on her neat little flashcards.

He _knows_ he’s not clever like Robin, can’t _connect_ like she does, can’t think _circles_ around others like she does. Family Video isn’t a stepping stone, for him, like it is for her. He won’t _get_ higher than this.

He’s not smart in the way Billy is, either. He doesn’t _hide_ , like Billy does. Doesn’t have books with long titles wedged between his bedroom wall and his bed. Doesn’t hide perfect scores on the edges of essays from wandering eyes. Doesn’t dumb down his language to _hide_ that he thinks, really _thinks_ about _real_ important shit.

He’s just _dumb_ , in that harmless way that’ll always mean disappointed comments scrawled by English teachers at the edge of _his_ essays. In that way that makes his dad say; ‘no college will want you with these grades, Steven.’ In that way that used to give him small, _pitying_ smiles from Nance. That now gives him a _you suck_ column and a ‘good thing you’re real pretty, Harrington _.’_ In that way that gives him a gaggle of middle schoolers hangin’ after him.

It’s _fine_ , that he didn’t get into college. That the only reason he got his minimum wage job at ‘scoops was because of his _dad_. That he only got his minimum wage job at Family Video because of _Robs_. It’s _fine_ , that that _gaggle of middle schoolers_ scoff at him like it’s _obvious_ how a _camera obscurus_ or some _shit_ works. He’s _fine_ , being behind.

It gets _less_ fine, when Billy _really_ starts to notice. When Billy hides _less_ , when it’s just _them_ and Billy _realizes_ how Steve _can’t keep up_ with him. Can’t keep up with Billy’s quick thinking, _real_ important thinking. It’s _less_ fine, when he starts _waiting_ for the day he gets _dropped_. ‘Cause Billy doesn’t _waste time_ , on things he doesn’t like. On things that don’t interest him. On things that _can’t keep up._ Hetries, _tries_ to keep Billy interested, even though Steve _can’t keep up_ and he’s kinda dumb but it’s a _good thing_ that he’s _real pretty_ , so maybe Billy could _stay_ , right there with him, even though he _can’t keep up_.

When Billy says “there’s really nothin’ in that pretty little head of yours today” _,_ Steve thinks _this is it,_ this is when Billy calls _bullshit_ , when being _real pretty_ isn’t _enough_ and when he gets another round of _it’s all bullshit_. Maybe it hurts _less_ , the second time ‘round. Maybe he’s used to it by now, like it’s some kinda _cough medicine_ that works _worse_ every time you take a sip. He wouldn’t know about that anyway, ‘cause he’s not _smart_ like that.

Another thing Steve knows is that he’s a bit of a coward, even after ‘gorgons tried to kill him once, _twice_ , _three_ times topped with _Russian_ _torturers_. He still can’t plant his feet, can’t stay put when he _should_. He goes, after ‘there’s really nothin’ in that pretty little head of yours today’ _,_ because he’s a _coward_ who can’t take another round of _bullshit_ , not from _Billy_. He _goes_ , finds some _bullshit_ excuse that he _knows_ Billy doesn’t buy, ‘cause he’s _smarter_ than that. Tells him he's got some sorta _emergency shift_ , that he completely forgot about. And it _should_ be believable, 'cause Steve _forgets_ things all the time.

And _look_ , he isn’t the smartest, never claimed to be, but he _knows_ a couple a’ things, like the fact that he’s kinda _dumb_ and a _coward_ and that Billy _realizing_ all that, and dropping him, would break his heart right down the _fucking_ middle.


	2. interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This started out as a dabble on my tumblr, basically the first chapter, but a surprising amount of people demanded I fix the hearts I broke so here I am. I decided to put it on here, well, ‘cause I can.
> 
> Check out my tumblr @awickedplacethisis for more chaos.

Billy’s never been good at caring. He’s never been the protector, never _tried_ to be after that one time. After that time he shoved _him_ away from _her_ , and ended up with a broken jaw and twitchy hands. 

He _destroys_ , he punches and sneers and makes sure he knows where he stands, makes sure his feet are planted. ‘Cause that’s what the world _is_ , what it’s made him do to _survive_. He can’t stop, can’t take a look around and see that no one _wants_ him to be different, either. If they’d want him to be different, if they’d _want_ him, they’d _stay_.

Steve’s _leavin_ ’, lying and mumblin’ and walking straight out the door. _Emergency shift_. At Family fuckin’ Video, _Hawkins, Indiana._ Steve leaves him there, where he’s burrowed down into the ugly cream couch in Harrington manor’s den. Leaves him like _every_ person he’s ever-. _Fuck_. He’s being _left behind_ in someone elses house, and it's not like the times he gets _stuck_ in his own head, thinks people are leavin when they're _not_ , 'cause Steve couldn't even fuckin' _look_ at him. 

He should leave, too. He’s not welcome, not _wanted_. He should _leave_ and never look back ‘cause that’s how it _works_ , when people _leave_ him. They keep _leaving_ him. Part of him wants to stay, trash the ugly fuckin’ house he’s not welcome in, now. Smash the imported vases and piss on the _all new_ carpet. Even if he’s not really like that, now. Now when he’s a living ragdoll, sown together by scientists and brought back to life. All fucked in the head. Carved out and made _different_ , by some kinda monster that made him its own. And listen, he’s not fuckin’ _stupid_ , he’d leave someone like that too. He’d leave himself for dead, if he could. Like the ones he- like _they_ keep doing. 

He can’t _stay_ , can’t sit around like some _bitch_ , waiting for Steve to come back to his house. The house Billy’s not welcome in, not now. The house that was some kinda _safety_ , for Billy. ‘Cause Steve’d let him have clothes and records and his faggy books, all tangled up with Steve’s stuff. Like _Billy_ was all tangled up in _Steve_. _Was_. ‘Cause Steve fuckin’ left, lyin’ and _leavin_ ’ like they _always_ do, and Billy can’t _stay_. 


	3. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This started out as a dabble on my tumblr, basically the first chapter, but a surprising amount of people demanded I fix the hearts I broke so here I am. I decided to put it on here, well, ‘cause I can.
> 
> Check out my tumblr @awickedplacethisis for more chaos.

He drove to the quarry. He knows the way like the back of his hand. He’s been going there since he was twelve, with _Tommy_ to drink stolen beers, and alone to be _alone_. His chest is _heaving_ , in that way it did when he was _eight_ and spent his first week home alone. The way it did when he was _eighteen_ and heard it’s all _bullshit_. The way it did when he was facing _monsters_ , ready to die for a couple a’ kids he never really talked to, before. And it’s doing it _now_ , when he’s running from _Billy_ and all that _disappointment_. Running away from more _bullshit_ , ‘cause he’s a _coward_ , he pretends everything’s _fine_ ‘cause he can’t handle the damn truth. 

The car’s still on, engine running, all the lights on. The battery’s gonna die, or he’ll run out of gas or something. Steve’s never been good with cars, anyway. 

In the dark, the quarry’s different. The shadows make it hard to see how far the drop would be, it just goes on and _on_ down into blackness. Everything’s obscured, hidden away. It’s impossible to see if something’s _coming_ for you, before it’s too late. 

The crunch of gravel makes him tense. Makes him realize he didn’t bring his bat. Didn’t have time to think about that when he ran straight out the door, to get away from _Billy_ and his laughs and sharp words and his _disappointment_. Maybe he should just lock the doors, turn off the lights and hope whatever’s out there won’t _get_ to him. He hauls himself out of the drivers seat instead. He’s never been the smartest, anyway. 

It’s another car, _Billy’s_ car, ‘cause of _course_ it is. He doesn’t know if he’s been at the quarry for _one_ or eight hours, time stretched out and _blurry_ from moving too _fast_ and not at all at the same time. He can’t _keep up_. Doesn’t know if Billy’s there for _him_ , or if the way he’s just _staring_ at him through his windshield is some kinda hint that Steve should leave. He’s stepping out though, so maybe he’s got something to say. Tell him that he’s sick of being with someone who can’t _keep up_ , and sick of someone who’d run ‘cause he’s scared of a fight.

“You know, usually you kick the _guy_ out, not yourself”, and Billy’s talking in that way he does, when he’s _angry_ , outta patience. Like he did that night, at the Byers. And Steve _always_ does this, makes it _worse_ ‘cause he’ can’t face the truth. _Pretends_ , ‘cause he’s nothing without that made up shit. He should’ve let Billy do this back at the house, shouldn’t have _run_ , dragged it out. Made Billy angry. Shouldn’t have shown Billy that he’s a _stupid, lying, coward_. Shouldn’t have made Billy _hate_ him. “I finally drove you out, _literally_ ”, Billy’s not leaving him any room to talk, to _think_. "You finally realise you can do better than the first _faggot_ to look your way?", and it _hurts_ , the way Billy's talking. All bitter and scalding, smile sharp, manic and all _wrong_.

“I just couldn’t _stay_ , shit”, and Steve doesn’t know what to _say_ , how to explain to Billy that he’d rather _run_ than hear _bullshit, you’re bullshit_ , from him. “ _I-_ “

Billy’s not letting him continue, won’t let him _talk_ , and Steve knows Billy does that when he’s angry, scared, _trapped_. Will make sure no one else _talks_ so they can’t say something he doesn’t wanna hear. “ _Yeah_ , I know. I should’ve realized sooner, pretty boy, saved a lotta time”, and there it _is_ , what Steve’s been waiting for Billy to realize right from the start. And it _hurts_ , to hear it, hurts more than Nancy’s drunken _bullshits_ , even though he thought he’d be used to it, now. It hurts more ‘cause it’s _Billy_. 

“I’m _sorry_ ”, and Steve’s got a habit of not knowing what he’s fucking apologizing for, but this time he’s so _sorry_. So sorry Billy had to waste his time on him, on someone who couldn’t _keep up._ “I’m sorry I wasted your _time_ , I’m sorry I’m not _enough_ for you, I tried to be, _shit_ , I _tried_.”, and Steve’s falling right off the _edge_ , words tumbling out like they _always_ do when he can’t fucking _control_ himself.

”I don’t- you _left_ , Steve, the fuck do you want me to _say_?”, and Billy’s _cracking_ , something broken seeping through all that anger, and Steve doesn’t know what to _do_ with that.

”I couldn’t hear it again, _fuck_ , not from _you_ ”, and it’s the truth, the pathetic, _cowardly_ truth, and Steve doesn’t know how he’s supposed to make Billy _understand_ , ‘cause Steve’s never been good with words. Never been good at much. 

“Hear _what_ \- I, you’re not makin’ _sense_. You’re loosin’ track of your damn _lies_ , pretty boy”, and Billy’s talking like _he’s_ not the one getting tired of _Steve_ , all sharp, broken glass. Like _Steve_ left in the way _Billy’s_ gonna leave, like Steve’s the one who’s gonna move _on_ , leave Hawkins and his _good for now_ life. 

“I’m not _lying_ , I- I couldn’t _sta_ -”, Steve’s stuttering, all dumb like he does when he’s nervous, scared outta his damn _mind_.

“ _Huh_ , yeah, _emergency shift._ That’s cute, Harrington. You gonna keep fuckin’ _lying_ to me? Lyin’ like they _always_ do, I-“, and Billy’s _still_ talking all hurt, like _he_ didn’t- like he _won't_ -

“Stop _talking_ like that, stop acting all- _you’re_ the one-“, _you’re the one who’s gonna fucking leave_. Steve can’t get it _out_ , can’t rip the band-aid off. Can’t make it _real_.

”I’m _what_? What am I _doing_ , I didn’t- I thought we-”, and none of them can really _speak_ , breaths too fast and voices all _broken_. And Billy _always_ knows what to say, doesn’t ramble and stumble over easy words, he knows what to say to make things _right_ , or so, so wrong. 

“I’m sorry for _storming off_ , shit, but- you can’t- don’t _pretend_ like you’re not gonna _fucking_ leave”, and it’s all there. That big, fat elephant in the goddamn room, the truth that hurts so bad even though it’s always been inevitable. 

“I wasn’t- you _left_ , you just _said_ it, _you left_. I didn’t-“, and Billy’s _real_ good at acting like he hasn't been talking about leaving this _shithole_ since the second he stepped foot in Hawkins _, fucking_ Indiana _._

“ _Fuck_ , you were _always_ gonna leave, I- I can’t _keep up_ with you, I’m slowing you down, _you_ \- don’t-“, and it’s happening, all the shit Steve thought he could _outrun_ , ‘cause he’s a _coward_ , ‘cause he’s _bullshit_. 

“You can’t just- I wasn’t gonna, just, _leave_ ”, and Steve _wants_ to believe him, wants to _forget_ about how Billy’s around ‘cause Steve’s the next best thing available.

”I’m- _listen_ , shit, I _know_ a couple a’ things, I know-”

” _Do_ you? ‘Cause you’re not makin’ _sense_ , at all, right now”, and Steve _knows_ he ain’t smart, but he’s got enough sense in his screwed up head, to know that this is just the long, drawn out version of _bullshit_ , the one where they’re sober and shivering, wind howling ‘round them. _This is it._

“ _Stop_. You _know_ , you know what I mean, you’re- you come over ‘cause it’s _Hawkins_ and at least- at least I’m _pretty_ , right? I’m _stupid_ but I’m pretty and it’s fine, _it’s fine,_ you’re gonna _leave_ , anyway”, and Steve’s rambling, he _always_ talks too much, when he starts. Can’t stop, words spilling and tripping outta his mouth. 

And Billy looks _betrayed_. Looks caught off guard, like Steve’s not saying what they’ve both been thinking since the fucking start. Like Steve’s not allowed to _say_ all that shit. 

“ _You_ \- why would you- I don’t _get_ it, what the fuck are you- what the, _yes_ , you’re _pretty_ , what is this _about_ , why did you just-“, and it’s so _cold_ , and Billy sounds so damn _tired_ , sounds like they’re talking about two different things. 

“‘Cause it’s not _enough_ , and it’s fine, but it’s not enough and you’re getting _bored_ , fuck. You’re so _smart_ , Billy, and I’m just a, _a placeholder,_ I’m convenient, but you don’t waste time on _stupid shit_ , and-“

” _Steve_ ”, and Billy’s talking like he’s in _pain_ , blue eyes all big and _hurt_ , but it’s like some kinda switch, Steve can’t stop _talking_ when he’s begun, can’t keep his damn mouth _shut_. 

“And I thought that was _it_ , shit, I thought that if I left, maybe I’d get some more _time_ , but I didn’t _think_ , fuck, I made it _worse_ ‘cause that’s what I _do_ ”, it’s quiet, the quarry dead and _cold_ , and everything’s _quiet_ except for Steve’s heaving breaths, his sharp _ins_ and _outs_ , all erratic and _exhausted_. 

Billy’s quiet, now. Won’t bare his teeth, the ones made outta _broken glass._ Everything’s _quiet_ , and they’re so far apart, and Steve’s waiting for those _words_. That last blow. _You’re bullshit_. But Billy’s all _quiet_ , and coming _closer_ , moving all _slow_ and calm like he’s _not_ about to-

“ _Steve_ , listen to me”, and there’s a hand reaching out, holding onto his jacket, curling in the fabric, like Steve’s gonna run away. _Again_. “I need you to- _fuck_ , you _gotta_ know, how much I- I’m not gonna _leave_ you. I _need_ you, just like those dumb _kids_ a’ yours need you. So many _people_ \- You’re not stupid. Who _cares_ that you didn’t get into _college_ or that you don’t _get_ fucking, _Dostoyevsky_ or _whatever’s_ got your head all twisted. It’s not _important_. You’re- _you’re_ what’s important, _shit_ ”, and Billy’s talking all quiet, talking all _sweet_ like he _cares_ , like it doesn’t _matter_ that Steve’s always gonna _slow him down._ “Don’t _run away_ , shit, don’t _decide_ what I’m gonna do, _no one_ tells me what to do”, and he’s _smiling_ all bittersweet, lips soft, eyes so _blue_ , and Steve doesn’t know what to _say_. What to _do_ , ‘cause, _you’re what’s important._

Steve doesn’t know what to _say_ , he’s never been good with words, he doesn’t know what to _do_ , but there’s _hope_ rising in his throat, spilling out. _You’re what’s important_. He’s pulling Billy _closer_ , hugging him, and they _don’t_ hug, they’re not _soft_ with each other like they’re being _now_. They don’t say, _you’re what’s important_ , and they don’t brush lips against temples. But they’re doing it, _now,_ there, at the cold, dead quarry. Everything’s _soft_ in a way it isn’t _,_ usually. They’re real close, hugging and _clinging_ like Steve always wants to but _shouldn’t_ , ‘cause he’s _bullshit_.

Maybe he’s _not_ , though. Maybe _they’re_ not _bullshit_ , ‘cause Billy’s holding him _tight_ , arms locked in place, keeping Steve _warm_ even though it’s _real_ cold out. Maybe the way Billy says, _let’s go home_ , isn’t _bullshit_. The way he leads them to the Camaro, doesn’t let Steve drive his own car. The way he _knows_ Steve can’t keep track of a lotta things at once. Can’t drive when his hands are _shaking_. 

It’s _raw_ , rough around the edges, all quiet, but _soft_. Soft in a way that has hope bubbling in Steves belly, that has him _smiling_ , when Billy keeps his warm hand on Steve’s thigh, firm, _soft_. He hasn’t said anything, doesn’t know what to _say_. Can only _hope_. _Maybe it’s not bullshit._

-

Billy Hargrove was always supposed to leave. Since the second he stepped foot in Hawkins _, fucking_ Indiana _,_ he was waiting for his moment to _leave_. The second he could, he’d head _back_ , go someplace he’d _belong_. Now, the idea that Steve Harrington would _follow_ him, seems obvious. It’s only _natural_ , that Steve’s sitting in the passenger seat, his possessions stuffed in the trunk. Billy’s hand _warm_ on his thigh, all _soft_ in the way that’s _familiar_ , now. 

And maybe Steve doesn’t know a whole lot. Maybe middle schoolers turned freshmen, _sophomores_ , can think circles around him. Maybe he’d never get into college, would _definitely_ not get a _full_ damn _ride_. Maybe he’ll never get a job cooler than working at a damn _ice cream parlor_. Maybe he’ll live out the rest of his days in a cramped shoebox of an apartment, the only one they could _afford_. 

But he knows _some_ things. He knows that it’s not _important_. _You’re what’s important_. He knows that he’s needed, _wanted_. He knows that he’s _happy_ , he’s hopeful and _free_. He knows that his life won’t _ever_ be the same, not where he’s headed. And, he knows that Billy Hargrove will _never_ , ever, let him go. 


End file.
